


Persistent Happenstance

by casual_distance



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Grumpy Castiel, Human Castiel, Men of Letters Bunker, Team Free Will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-03 21:20:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5307251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casual_distance/pseuds/casual_distance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Cas is a cat and Sam is a dog.  Figuratively speaking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Persistent Happenstance

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this post](http://caswouldratherbehere.tumblr.com/post/127873945797/underhuntressmoon-jemmasimmns-one-difference): one difference between cats and dogs is that dogs do absolutely nothing to mask their clinginess while cats pretend it’s a coincidence they’re in the same room as you 97% of the time

Dean’s in the library, feet propped up on the table, book settled in his lap, reading up on obscure Japanese monsters while pretending not to be when Cas wanders in. His socked feet whuff softly against the concrete floor, drawing Dean’s attention. He watches Cas pointedly not look at him as he shuffles over to a bookcase and squints at the spines. Cas finally picks one and settles into a chair at the other table on the opposite side from Dean. Dean watches him open the book randomly and stare down at the page, chin propped up on his hand.

Dean goes back to his own reading. It’s only after he’s finished the chapter on amabie that he realizes Cas is still staring at the same page. Dean watches him for a moment before he clears his throat.

“Did you need somethin’, Cas?” he asks.

Cas frowns at him. “No.”

“You’ve just been sitting there.”

Cas’s frown deepens into a scowl. He wraps his arms around the book and twists away from Dean slightly. 

“I’m reading,” he protests petulantly and then ducks his head to focus on the book, turning a page and then another immediately after, clearly not reading.

“Ooo-kay,” Dean mutters to himself as he flips to the chapter on jikininki. The first time Cas had been human he’d not been quite this pissy. Sam said it was “growing pains” and told Dean to give him space.

Dean returns to his book and is only a few pages in when Sam’s heavy bootsteps echo from the hallway and he bursts into the library in a blur of plaid and hair.

“There you are!” he exclaims when he spots Dean.

Dean sighs and closes his book. “‘Sup, Sam?”

“I was thinking we should go shoot some pool. You up for it?”

Dean’s kinda not, but Sam looks so hopeful, eyes wide and pleading, that Dean gives in. “Yeah, sure. You gonna join us, Cas?”

Cas peers at him suspiciously before he shrugs. Still, he follows them from the library and is sitting in the back seat of the Impala already when Sam and Dean finally make it to the garage. Sam talks the whole way to the bar while Cas sulks quietly in the backseat. Dean resists the urge to smash his face into the steering wheel.

 

* * *

 

Dean’s just finished pressing the top slice of bread to the perfect sandwich when he hears Sam calling his name. Dean groans, hanging his head for a moment before he shifts down the counter and pulls out another plate.

“Kitchen!” he calls out to Sam as he begins to spread mayo on a new piece of bread.

Sam stomps in and immediately beelines for the sandwich Dean had left on the counter.

“Is that for me?” Sam asks as he picks it up and takes a huge bite from it. He makes a grossed out noise and scowls at Dean. 

“I hate mustard, Dean,” he whines as he takes another bite.

“I’m aware.” Dean scowls at him as he piles on sliced turkey and tops it with cheese.

Sam hums, placated, and shoves the sandwich back into his face. Dean tops off his new sandwich and takes a bite, turning around to find Cas has wandered into the kitchen. He heads to the fridge, ignoring both Dean and Sam, and opens the door to stare into its depths. He sighs and shuts the door. He wanders over the pantry and digs through it, picking up cans, spinning them in his hands, and then putting them down again.

Dean watches as he eats, eyebrows climbing his forehead. By the time Cas wanders back over the to fridge, heaving another sigh as he stands and stares into it again, Dean’s fighting back laughter.

“Do you want me to make you a sandwich, Cas?” he offers.

Cas slams the fridge shut and scowls at Dean. “No.” He storms from the room. 

Dean laughs while Sam blinks after him bewildered.

 

* * *

 

Dean hums as he tightens a few nuts in Baby’s engine. He’s covered in grease up to his elbows, Baby’s just about purring as good as new, and he’s finally- _finally_ \- gotten a few minutes alone without Sam or Cas finding him and hovering around him.

And a blissful few minutes it was, because as soon as he thinks it, the door to the garage creaks open and Cas peers into the room. 

Dean ignores him, hoping he’ll get the hint and go away, but Cas doesn’t. Instead he slinks into the garage. He finds a stool in the corner and sits down facing the desk. He shuffles through the papers stacked there and doesn’t acknowledge Dean at all. Dean decides he’s fine with that and continues to check Baby over.

Just as Dean’s almost convinced himself that Baby could indeed use an oil change, Sam pushes open the door to the garage, already halfway through a sentence.

“-going to pop some popcorn and was thinking we could-”

“Oh, Jesus christ,” Dean loses it. “Can’t you two just give me a fucking minute to myself?” he swears.

Sam stops talking, mouth hanging open. Cas’s head snaps up and he stares at Dean. Hurt flashes across his face so fast Dean almost misses it before Cas’s expression resolves into the same pissy, disinterested look he usually wears. Cas stands up, the chair screeching across the floor. He levels a narrow-eyed look at Dean.

“I apologize if my silence is too annoying for you,” he says, voice cold and hard. He pushes past Sam and disappears down the hall. Sam’s mouth pinches up as he glares at Dean.

“If you want to be alone you could just _say_ so, Dean. I was going to see if you wanted to marathon Hannibal, but nevermind.” Sam slams the door on his way back into the house.

Dean stands for a moment, staring down into Baby’s engine, and then kicks the toolbox at his feet, sending it skittering across the floor.

 

* * *

 

He finds Cas sitting cross legged on his bed, shoulders hunched as he works the trackpad on Sam’s laptop. Dean clears his throat. Cas ignores him, but his shoulders hunch further in. Dean winces, but pushes on anyway.

“So, uh, Sam and I are going to marathon Hannibal in his room. You should join us.”

“I’m busy, Dean,” Cas responds without turning around.

“Right. Well. The invite’s there.” Dean chickens out then and leaves before Cas can dismiss him again.

In Sam’s room, he tosses the bag of popcorn at Sam’s head. He catches it only to juggle it from hand to hand, hissing in response to the overheated bag, until he drops it on the bed.

“Screw you, Dean,” Sam grumbles, the corner of his mouth twitching with a repressed smile.

“Whatever. Move over.”

“Jerk,” Sam whines, but he scoots and tears open the bag, fanning the opening to clear out the steam. 

Dean settles down next to him with an elbow in Sam’s side and a muttered, “Bitch.”

Two episodes in, Sam’s door creaks open and Cas creeps in. He ignores Dean and circles around to climb up on Sam’s side of the bed, giving Sam a nod hello as he stretches across the foot. Sam folds his legs up, while Dean shifts his over. Cas curls up on his side, taking up far less room than a six foot man should be able to.

The third time Cas shifts position, Dean pulls a pillow from behind his head and drops it across his shins. He nudges Cas with his toe and then kicks at the pillow. Cas twists his head around to study Dean, and then, instead of taking the pillow and curling up around it, he drapes himself over Dean’s legs. He shoves his elbow between Dean’s calves and wraps a hand around Dean’s foot. Dean considers protesting, but Cas starts a kneading-massage on his instep and Dean decides that’s a fair trade off.

By the time the first season is over, Sam’s drooling on his shoulder and Cas is drifting. His massage slows and then stops, only to start up again a few long moments later before fading out once more. Dean elbows at Sam, but Sam only grunts. Dean manages to wiggle the remote from Sam’s grip and starts the second season. Cas sighs and goes boneless against Dean’s legs, finally giving in to the need to sleep. Dean watches the slope of his shoulders rise and fall. Sam snores in his ear. Dean’s too warm and uncomfortable, but he’s got his family so it’s not that bad, he thinks.

(When his legs, ass, and arm fall asleep, Dean changes his mind and starts making a list of fat jokes to harass Sam with.)


End file.
